


Each Night in Dreams (Or: The Lure of Insomnia)

by Lypreila



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age - Freeform, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Insomnia, Min Lavellan, Phrasing, Silly Solavellan, Solavellan, Sploosh, What happens when I don't sleep, solavellan hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:33:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5160518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lypreila/pseuds/Lypreila
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fen' Harel gets everything he ever wanted.  So does Lavellan.<br/>Takes place post Trespasser and therefore: SPOILERS.  I guess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Each Night in Dreams (Or: The Lure of Insomnia)

**Author's Note:**

> So, Lethallin and Lethallan, Solasmancers and those in Solavellan hell, I wrote this in a fit of insomnia. So it's not very good, but I felt it was at least worth throwing out there. I always wondered if Solas could -always- tell when he was in the fade. What if he ended up there but thought it was reality? Or what if he formed the fade to the perfect world for his dreams? 
> 
> I'll probably come back and edit this at some point. Apologies for any ridiculousness including but not limited to: OOCness, my interpretations of how Solas will accomplish his task, grammatical errors, and general idiocy. Cross posted to FF.net and Tumblr under the same username. Also, I don't own these characters or settings, or anything really. All bow down to Bioware for bringing me these fun toys to play with and write about.

Each Night in Dreams (Or: The Lure of Insomnia) 

The elf once known as Solas sat, waist deep in grass turned golden by the setting sun. The Dread Wolf permitted himself a small, contented sigh. He felt that he had earned this, the rural idyll, the infinite colors of the sunset, and best of all his vehnan was here. Gently he caressed the cheek of the woman that lay sprawled on her back at his side. Hair of the darkest black framed a face with a pointy chin and large eyes that were closed in happiness. Numin was an apt name for her; looking at her nearly brought him to tears. He never expected to keep her safe from the catastrophe. It had taken more of his power than he’d care to admit, using foci, spells, and incantations never heard in what had been Thedas. 

Sealing the black city within its own pocket of the fade had been easy compared to saving as many of the elven people as he could. Even the ones who refused his help. It had been a barely controlled chaos, the sky torn open, so reminiscent of the breach. Demons everywhere, people fighting, whole nations dying, going up in smoke. But then, in the midst of it all, she had disappeared from the fade. After weeks of her absence he had been sure that he was dying slowly, so great had been his pain. 

“You’ve never told me why I stopped being able to find you in the fade, vhenan.” 

Even though the question was asked gently, it was clear that he wanted an answer from the former inquisitor. She flicked her eyes open, meeting his own with a sad smile. 

“I didn’t sleep, emma lath, for what felt like a month. Too dangerous. I only dozed, ready to wake at a moment.” she said, much to his incredulity. That should be impossible. Fen’harel felt his heart constrict. The pain he must’ve caused her, and she was still here at his side. She had shown up one day, bloodied and dirty, missing not just her arm, but also the light that had once danced in her deep green eyes. 

“I’m done fighting for them, Solas. I’m done." She had said “From now on I will fight only for myself, and for you. So what do you need me to do?”

Together they had salvaged what they could, strengthened the barrier that separated the Evanuris and the Black City from the new, veil free world. They had taught the magic as it came back to the People. And they had healed. Now that things had mostly settled and the people were as safe as could be they sat, secure in the love they gave and received so freely. It was the perfect happy ending, the one Fen’harel hadn’t let himself even dream of. He gazed down at her fondly. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan. And I am sorry for ever having underestimated you.” 

She gazed back, serene, a tiny smile gracing her face. 

“And I love you, Fen’harel.”

“Sir…..SIR!”

Her face faded, slowly as though it didn’t want to go. The golden light and grass vanished and he was left sitting on hard stone, the stars above blotted out by numerous camp fires. Fen’harel blinked, then almost automatically raised a brow at the tallish elf kneeling before him, gripping his shoulder. The scout removed his hand immediately. 

“You were right sir. The former Inquisitors forces have begun to move. There is…. Talk…. A new Exalted March….” He trailed off, looking at his commander with an odd gaze. Then he got up and left. He had served long enough to know that the Dread Wolf would be in the command post in a moment, all careful action and measured words. But just now, the look on the ancient elf's face….. It was better to leave him be. 

Solas blinked, and lifted a hand to his chilled skin. His fingers came away damp.


End file.
